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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498403">Heather</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/06_blue_eyed_boys_28/pseuds/06_blue_eyed_boys_28'>06_blue_eyed_boys_28</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ALL ABOARD THE DENIAL TRAIN, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beverly Marsh &amp; Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Beverly Marsh is So Done, Beverly Marsh is a Good Friend, Bisexual Richie Tozier, But he doesn't know it yet, Confused Eddie Kaspbrak, Cookies, Denial of Feelings, Eddie Kaspbrak &amp; Beverly Marsh Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak &amp; Richie Tozier Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak Has a Crush, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is Bad at Feelings, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Eddie has a girlfriend, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Good Parent Maggie Tozier, I Love the Losers Club (IT), M/M, Maggie Tozier is a Good Mom, Minor Eddie Kaspbrak/Original Character(s), Modern Era, Richie Tozier Has a Crush on Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Sad Richie Tozier, Song: Heather (Conan Gray), Songfic, The Losers Club, and she's really pretty, bev and richie and eddie, not sure if it's minor, sorry not all the losers appear, they have movie nights every weekend, this is kinda focused on richie and eddie and eddie's gf, what an amazing friendship honestly, yeah she exists</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:33:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,526</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24498403</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/06_blue_eyed_boys_28/pseuds/06_blue_eyed_boys_28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Why would you ever kiss me?<br/>I'm not even half, as pretty<br/>You gave her your sweater<br/>It's just polyester, but you like her better<br/>Wish I were Heather</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Original Female Character(s), Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Heather</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/pxppydogtailz/gifts">pxppydogtailz</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi guys! this is for a gift exchange for a discord i'm in, but i hope y'all enjoy it anyway!<br/>i love this song and i think it really fits for reddie. it's angsty and fluffy with a happy ending so... yeah. comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and extremely welcomed!<br/>now without further ado, enjoy!<br/>&lt;3 :) &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Richie sighs heavily, sinking deeper into the couch and holding his cup of hot cocoa tightly. It warms his frigid hands, as he, Eddie, and Bev just got inside from a huge snowball fight, and then Richie decided to build a snowman with his bare hands, and well, he’s a little cold. He looks up from his drink, letting his eyes wander over the TV, which is playing </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Christmas Story</span>
  </em>
  <span>, to settle on Eddie who is not paying attention to the movie in the slightest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’re you texting, Eds?” Richie asks, scooting over on the couch to look over Eddie’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nobody Richie, stop,” Eddie says, smiling and pulling his phone away from Richie’s half-frozen fingers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, c’mon Eds? Is it your Mom? If so, I bet she’d love to hear from me-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not my mom, dipshit,” Eddie says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just let me see!” Richie exclaims, reaching across the couch and almost spilling hot chocolate all over the front of his shirt. “C’mon Eds, who is keeping you from watching your favorite Christmas movie of all time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie, stop, okay, seriously. It’s not funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why isn’t it funny? Everything can be funny if you want it to be,” Richie says, shrugging and sitting back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That made zero sense,” Bev says, walking back into the living room from the kitchen. “I popped popcorn. You’re welcome.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Bev,” Richie says with a mouthful of the stuff. He looks back over at Eddie, who is smiling and blushing at his phone. Oh. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Summer, isn’t it?” The girl Eddie’s been dating for three months now, the little ray of golden sunshine he never stops talking about, the object of his affections from the time he wakes up to the time he goes to bed at night.  “Jeez, Eds, can’t you go one hour without messaging her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie scoffs. “Yes! We’re just having an important conversation!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About what?” Richie asks, grabbing another handful of popcorn. His hands are still cold as hell, so he grabs his cup of hot chocolate off the table and takes another sip, attempting to soothe not only his hands, but his heart as well, which has iced over with envy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dogs and cats, and the phrase it’s raining cats and dogs, and shit like that,” Eddie says, not even looking up from his phone. He laughs. “Shit, she’s so funny.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beverly looks up at Richie from her spot on the ground, her back against the couch. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, just takes another sip of his hot chocolate and focuses his attention back on the movie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie giggles, and blushes, and squirms a bit in his seat and Richie feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jeez, what the hell did she say now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing!” Eddie replies, laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well it was obviously something,” Richie says, reaching over again. “C’mon Eds, let me see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Richie, I don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie, let me look!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie, don’t-” Bev starts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s too late. Richie leaned over too far and has just succeeded in spilling hot chocolate on the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” he mumbles. “I’ll go get a towel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, my mom’s going to be fucking pissed,” Eddie says, looking up for the first tie that night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, but she’s always hotter when she’s-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beep beep, Richie,” Beverly says, standing up to follow him. “Are you okay?” she asks, once they get to the bathroom and start looking for a suitable towel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, Beverly,” Richie says shortly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I’m just checking because I know-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you fucking know,” he cuts her off, grabbing a towel and running it under warm water. “Just stop reminding me of it, of </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beverly nods, and they clean up the hot chocolate stain fairly quickly, Eddie giving it a once over to make sure Sonia won’t notice, if and when she comes home from her mother’s house that night. Eddie’s grandma is dying, has been for a while now. He doesn’t know her, but it’s taking a toll on his mom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie finishes his hot chocolate and then wraps a blanket around himself, putting his head near Eddie’s lap. He waits for Eddie to play with his hair, doesn’t know why he does. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie hasn’t done that in three months, not since he started dating Summer. Not since they started hanging out more than Richie and Eddie do, not since he must have started playing with her hair, must’ve figured out that </span>
  <em>
    <span>friends </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t do that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck that shit. Eddie doesn’t even give a shit about him right now. Richie looks up from underneath his glasses and sees Eddie once again blushing at something Summer said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie, I’m cold,” he whines, throwing his head in Eddie’s lap. “Does your mom have something against using a heater? Well, actually, she does, that’s how she works up so much of a sweat during sex…” Richie trails off, waiting for Eddie to cut him off. He doesn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s your fault for wearing a tank top out in the snow…” Eddie mumbles, not looking up. “You’re going to get pneumonia or some shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you prescribe, Doctor K?” Richie asks in his British accent, really playing up the dramatics in some desperate attempt to get Eddie to look at him. “C’mon, fix me up, just like your mom did when I went down </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard</span>
  </em>
  <span> on her last night-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie, that’s disgusting,” Eddie says, wrinkling his nose in that adorable way he does. He looks up from his phone, setting it down on the couch. “Are you actually cold?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie nods, curls bouncing and glasses slightly slipping off his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie sighs. “Okay, you can borrow a sweatshirt. C’mon. We’ll be right back, Bev.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie tries and fails to hide his smile as he follows Eddie upstairs to his room. Eddie goes through his clothes, trying to find something that won’t be incredibly tight or incredibly short on Richie, finally settling on an oversized gray hoodie that will only barely fit Richie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, be careful with that,” Eddie says. “It was my dad’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Yeah, I will,” Richie replies, tugging it over his head and letting the warmth of not only the material, but the fact that this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eddie’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> sweatshirt, swallow him whole. It’s Eddie’s sweatshirt, and it was Eddie’s dad’s before him, which means that Eddie trusts him with it. Trusts him not to spill hot cocoa on it, or- or rip it, or do anything stupid. Richie feels way too happy right now, but decides that isn’t a bad thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, that doesn’t last long, because as soon as they get back downstairs, Eddie picks up his phone and starts texting Summer again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie, can you braid my hair?” he asks, once again lying down in Eddie’s lap. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rich, I’m not even that good.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s a mess!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when do you care about your hair being a mess?” Bev scoffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since- now!” Richie yells. “C’mon Eds, just a small one, y’know like the one that goes like a crown and stuff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie, I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay then, can you watch the damn movie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am,” Eddie argues, putting his phone down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you’re not! You’re having phone sex with Summer!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bev would’ve snorted if she didn’t see the hurt in Richie’s eyes. Eddie just looked indifferent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I’m not. I’m watching the movie. Now be quiet.” Eddie lets Richie keep his head in his lap, a fact Richie is very grateful for. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie can’t resist picking up his phone again. Everytime he moves to text, Richie feels it. And he just can’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>take </span>
  </em>
  <span>it anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m really tired guys, I’m going to bed,” Richie says, stretching his arms above his head and giving what he hopes is a convincing fake yawn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight,” Beverly says, standing up and taking his seat on the couch, where she’ll inevitably fall asleep sometime later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie collapses on Eddie’s bed, feeling bone-deep jealous, sad, and emotionally exhausted. He buries his face in the pillow on the left side of the bed, the extra one Eddie has for when he stays the night. He curls up, hiding his arms in the sleeves of Eddie’s sweater and struggling not to cry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s pathetic. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pay attention to me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s lonely.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s stupid.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Look at me. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s blue and she’s gotta be golden.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I love you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie says goodnight to Summer a few hours after Richie decided to go to bed. He feels weird, and blames it all on Richie acting weird earlier. Hell, he’s been acting weird for the past few weeks. And not Richie-weird, weird-weird. Strange. Different. Sometimes he’s quieter and sometimes he’s obnoxious to the point where Eddie legitimately wants to smack him. Tonight he just seemed… chilled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie crawls into bed next to him like he always does, because his bed is big enough for two and anyone who sleeps over just sleeps there. It’s not weird. Bev fell asleep on the couch and he didn’t want to wake her, it’s not weird. He hears Richie’s breath catch in his throat as he shifts, making room for the smaller boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Richie?” Eddie asks tentatively. No answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie is wide awake, and- and Eddie knows he’s awake, and Richie </span>
  <em>
    <span>knows </span>
  </em>
  <span>that Eddie has to know, yet he says nothing. He just hugs his pillow and turns over, blaming the events of the night and the thick silence in the room on what could have been frostbite, and quickly falling asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s</span>
  <em>
    <span> torture</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Richie can feel Eddie’s warmth beside him, and it’s all he can focus on. That, and how badly he wants to touch him. Innocently, of course. Always. Just cuddling, just spooning, just </span>
  <em>
    <span>torture </span>
  </em>
  <span>as Eddie’s pinky toe lightly touches Richie’s calf. At least he has the sweater. He brings an arm up under his head, feeling the soft material under his cheek as he forces his eyes closed, not letting them open until he feels light on his face… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you actually look pretty good in my sweater.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie blinks up at Eddie groggily. “Yeah? Thanks.” He sits up, checking the time on his phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>mama mia: Where are you?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>mama mia: We’re supposed to be visiting Grandma today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>mama mia: Hello?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>mama mia: Richie!</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>three missed calls from ‘mama mia’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” he mumbles, dragging a hand through his hair. He dials her number and then patiently awaits the scolding he’s about to receive. “Hey, Eds, I had fun, I gotta go, did Bev go home? She must’ve gone home. Mom’s gonna kill me, fuck… uhm… thanks for the sweater. It’s warm,” he babbles in disconnected trains of thought. He shrugs off the sweatshirt and hands it back to Eddie, who smiles and nods. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s quiet. It’s too quiet, and Richie’s heart is starting to race, so he gets in his car and goes home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richard Wentworth Tozier where the hell have you been?” Maggie questions. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was at Eddie’s!” Richie exclaims. “I told you that last night and you said it was fine-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you said you’d be home by nine!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What time is it?” He never </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> check the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eleven,” she says bluntly. “Luckily, Grandma is flexible. And I was able to make cookies in the two hours that I was waiting for you. You’re lucky Eddie answered the phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He answered his home phone…. by the way, where the hell is Sonia?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie’s grandma is dying,” Richie blurts. That seemed like something he might want to share with his mom. The boy that he is in love with has a girlfriend, and his grandma is dying, and his dad is already dead, AND he gave Richie his sweater last night. Shit, Richie’s brain is having trouble keeping up with everything that’s been going on throughout these past few months. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Maggie says quietly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sonia is spending time with her while she still can. Eddie didn’t know her too well, and he has to keep his grades up, and apparently Sonia cares about that, or at least a little. I don’t know. He’s… not too upset about it.” He’s more upset about the fact that Summer is so busy she hasn’t been able to come over this past week than he is about his grandma dying. And for all he knows, his grandma is just like his mom. Overbearing, mean, and selfish. He doesn’t really want to go see her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well. I’ll see you in a few minutes. And please, please don’t be late next time. And Richie, please stop driving while you’re on the phone!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hangs up immediately after that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He misses Eddie as soon as he’s left his house and he hates himself for it.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Fuck, Richie,” Eddie says, startling Richie a bit. He’s been so consumed in his work lately, and nobody (well, nobody except Bev, Stan, and possibly Mike) can tell why. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie looks up, pushing his too-big glasses up his nose. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I think I love her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie’s heart sinks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie nods, chin resting on his hand, and Richie watches him watch her, Summer, the beautiful angel of a girl who has captured Eddie’s heart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s got long, golden blonde hair, and big blue eyes. Her teeth are unrealistically straight and she’s got a smattering of freckles all over her cheekbones. She looks like her name, like fun in the sun, days at the beach, laughing, living, </span>
  <em>
    <span>loving</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s so pretty. She’s ethereal. She can’t be human, I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie resists the urge to gag as the physical presence of his unrequited love makes itself known in his stomach. It lurches, along with his heart, and he tries to be happy for Eddie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> Summer’s guts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go, go partner with her for the project,” Richie says in defeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Eddie asks, face lighting up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie nods. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie grins and walks over to her, and Richie watches them be irrevocably in love. They’re a perfect power couple, honestly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why does Richie hate her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This isn’t fair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighs and puts his head down, not noticing Bev walk up behind him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” he replies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie looks over at Eddie and Summer again, and they’re so engrossed in their own world they don’t notice Richie glaring daggers and then staring lovesick. Nobody else notices either, because in this shithole town, everyone is so self-absorbed. Richie thinks he’s self-absorbed too. Bev wishes he’d stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bell rings, and Richie’s day drags on. After school, they’re walking to their lockers and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie shrugs off his dad’s hoodie and hands it to Summer. She kisses him, hugs him, and then kisses his cheek again. Richie feels ugly envy rear its head, and bile make its way up his throat. He doesn’t wait for Eddie to walk to the bus stop together. He walks straight there, puts on his earbuds and listens to some calming music.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets home, and sees Eddie posted a picture of Summer on his Instagram. And she’s wearing his sweater. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie chokes down a sob. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why the hell is he fucking crying?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shouldn’t be fucking crying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is so </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Eddie never liked him back. Not when they were thirteen and fought a bitch-ass clown, not when they shared a hammock, not when they cuddled at every sleepover before Summer, not when Eddie found Summer because-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He found Summer because he doesn’t like you, Richie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t like you, Richie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody likes you, Richie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t love you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t love you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They don’t-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie’s phone rings. He clears his throat and answers, and fuck it’s Eddie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit, fuck, he can’t do this-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Eds Spagheds, how’s it hanging?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie, I’ve told you not to call me that so many fucking times. Grow up. Seriously.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie huffs, blowing his curls up and biting his lip. “So, did you call to fucking insult me, or-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was just wondering if Summer can come to our next snowball fight, movie night, hot cocoa type deal? She’s free this week, and I’ve been wanting to invite her for a little bit, and also Bev’s not gonna be the only girl anymore, so that’s always good…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie stops listening because Summer can’t come. Movie night is their thing. And since when has Bev being the only girl been a problem? That’s besides the point. Summer can’t come. She can’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, Eddie.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks! Okay, I’ll see you on Saturday then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie calls Beverly next. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t do this. He needs her to come up with an excuse for him to get out of movie night! He’s a genius, this is a great idea. This is great. He’ll stay home, catch up on some school work, play guitar, do shit he’s been needing to do but hasn’t because of some stupid reason…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Eddie.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not pining over anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t love him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beverly, why the fuck did I say yes? I can’t do this. I hate him. No, I- I’m in love with him. I hate </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span>. She’s such a bitch, Beverly. And- and Eddie said so you won’t be the only girl, that’s so bullshit! He loves her, and I love him, and I hate her- did I mention I hate her? Beverly, can I get out of movie night? I can’t go. Call me in sick. Make me sick. Yeah, that’s a really good idea, actually-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie,” Bev says tightly, cutting him off. “Stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie takes a huge breath, hugging a stuffed bear tight to his chest. “Yeah. Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to go and you’re going to have a good time, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beverly-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t keep watching you destroy yourself like this. Richie, you look like you haven’t slept in a week, you barely eat lunch, and sure your grades are climbing but that’s only because you’ve become an absolute work-a-holic! Just try to enjoy yourself tomorrow, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t. They’re in love.” He bites his lip to keep the floodgates from opening up again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you can. If not for me or yourself, do it for him. He’s a little shit but we both love him, and you and Summer both love him! You have that in common!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh joy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie, you’re not making this very easy. I know it’s hard but… I- nevermind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. It’s not my fucking place. Just take a deep breath. Calm down. Know that everything that needs to happen will happen, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a little shit, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too, Richie. Goodbye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See you tomorrow.” </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Hi!” Summer says brightly, the last one to arrive. Eddie’s waiting for her to start the movie because… of course he is. “Beverly, and… Richie, right? Eddie talks about you guys a lot.” She grins with her perfect teeth, and Richie wants to hate her so badly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t, though she’s wearing Eddie’s sweater, and it’s loose on her and the sleeves go past her wrist without her having to pull on them. She’s small, and delicately pretty in the way Richie always wished he was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you can call me Bev.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought candy,” Summer says, holding up a little bag with M&amp;Ms (all six kinds) and a few Reese’s bars. “I hope you guys like these.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course you brought fucking candy,” Richie mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie glares at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We do, don’t worry,” Bev says with a tight smile, taking two bags of M&amp;Ms and handing one to Richie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rips it open, picking out the brown ones and handing them to Bev, because he refuses to eat them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks so much for the candy, Summer,” Bev says, looking at Richie pointedly. He’s quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s no problem! What are we watching?” she asks sweetly, cuddling up next to Eddie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie thinks his heart is going to explode, and then his chest will break and he’ll bleed out all over the ground. Can chests break? Is that possible? Eddie would know. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a Wonderful Life,” Eddie replies, starting the movie and kissing the top of her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, would you </span>
  <em>
    <span>stop</span>
  </em>
  <span> with the PDA?” Richie grumbles under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Summer asks kindly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell, Richard?” Eddie asks, tone sharp. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just saying.” Richie shrugs and eats an MnM.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t mind him, he’s a bit of a brat,” Eddie says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie tries to keep his eyes on the movie, but Summer puts her head on Eddie’s shoulder, and that’s Richie’s fucking spot, and Richie should be wearing that sweater because now he’s actually cold, not physically anymore, but emotionally drained and chilled out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t breathe as Eddie takes a strand of Summer’s hair and starts braiding it. He tucks it behind her ear and leans in for a kiss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Please don’t make out during </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s a Wonderful Life</span>
  </em>
  <span>, please, please, please don’t make out-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie looks away as their lips touch, and misses how Eddie pulls back all too soon, how Summer’s face falls, and how they look at each other with some sort of agreement, or disagreement. Eddie doesn’t know which one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie just knows that he wants to feel, and right now he doesn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s feeling. Or if he even is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wants Richie to talk. Never, in a million years, would he ever have thought he’d want Richie to talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Richie is silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His leg bounces faster with every breath he manages, and it’s getting to the point where Bev is getting worried. She’s about to pull him aside to help him calm down, but he takes on this task by himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie, I have a project for English on Monday, I’m going to bed. See you guys in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hopes Summer isn’t staying, because… Eddie might kick him out of bed, and that would be just… really, really sad, but Richie has been acting like a real dick lately, so he wouldn’t honestly blame Eddie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Summer leaves at ten o’clock sharp, when her mom arrives to pick her up. Richie can see this out Eddie’s window, and he’s not surprised. Summer’s a good girl. Of course her mom wouldn’t let her stay over at a boy’s house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Summer is golden. She’s sun. She’s pretty. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie is blue. He’s dark. He’s everything she’s not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door creaks as Eddie walks in, and Richie quickly pretends to be asleep, just like he did last week. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie is done playing along with his shit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, what the fuck? I know you’re not asleep, Richie, get up,” Eddie says sharply, turning on the lights and pulling the blankets off Richie. “You were so fucking rude tonight. What did Summer ever do to you, huh?” Eddie continues, angry not only at Richie, but at himself. He wishes he could feel with Summer, the way he feels with certain others in his life… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Richie.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, what the fuck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then why were you acting like a complete bitch?” Eddie asks, raising his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t!” Richie defends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you were! You were all quiet and shit and when you weren’t you were all snippy with me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck you, Richie. Fuck you. Seriously, what is wrong? Is it something at school, at home? Did your parents not let you do something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just, drop it, Eddie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. I want to know what’s wrong.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you fucking don’t,” Richie bites back, his tone a bit too harsh for even his own liking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. You’re really not going to fucking talk to me? Really Richie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie blinks back the heat behind his eyes. “I can’t, Eddie. Where’s Bev? Is she still downstairs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you’re going to tell her and not me. Wow. Just what best friends are for, am I right? Y’know, I’ve noticed we’ve been distant lately but if you’d just talk-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Talk to you?” Richie scoffs. “Talk to you? Last movie night you barely gave me the time of day and tonight was no different! You were off sucking face with Summer the whole time!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gave you my fucking sweater Richie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie’s heart cracks in two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eddie. I want to tell you. I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just get out. I can’t talk to you right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie nods and walks downstairs. “Bev, I need y-you to take me h-home,” he stutters through his tears. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nods, grabbing her keys and driving him home. The radio plays a country love song by Taylor Swift while Richie silently cries. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s ironic</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. He and Eddie used to listen to this stuff all the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now, he listens to her on Pandora alone, in his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After “Dear John,” a new song starts up. One that Richie has never heard before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I still remember</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Third of December</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Me in your sweater</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You said it looked better</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Richie thinks. He’s going to cry. He’s going to scream into his pillow. His parents are going to hear. Or… maybe they won’t. He doesn’t care. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>On me, than it did you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Only if you knew</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How much I liked you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But I watch your eyes, as she</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Walks by</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What a sight for</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sore eyes</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Brighter than a</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blue sky</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She's got you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mesmerized</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>While I die</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie thinks of Summer, and her golden hair and bright blue eyes, and how much of Eddie she holds in her hands now that they’ve been dating for the past three months. He hopes she cherishes what she has of him, because he is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> special, and deserves someone… someone like Summer. A golden girl. That’s what she is. A pretty flower amongst a million blades of grass, and Richie is just another blade in the garden. That was a horrible metaphor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why would you ever kiss me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm not even half, as pretty</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You gave her your sweater</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's just polyester, but you like her better</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wish I were Heather</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulls off his glasses and palms his eyes, wishing the tears would stop. He gave her his sweater, his dead dad’s sweater that he told Richie to be careful with, but seemed to just shrug it off and give it to her without a care in the world. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> like her better. He does like her better.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Watch as she stands with</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her holding your hand</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Put your arm 'round her shoulder</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Now I'm getting colder</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie wants to be cold. He wants his heart to be chilled down to its core. But it’s not. As much as he wants to not feel, he feels things so fucking intensely, and his love for Eddie is no exception. Everytime he sees them together, he wants to scream. He puts a hand up to his mouth in case he does, not wanting his parents to hear. He can’t possibly explain the pain he’s feeling. They’re college sweethearts, love at first sight shit, they’d never-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But how could I hate her?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She's such an angel</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But then again, kinda</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wish she were dead, as she</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Summer, who Eddie had once described as ethereal. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, she must be an angel, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Richie thinks, setting his glasses down on the side table. He doesn’t wish she were dead. Eddie would be devastated. He just… maybe she could go away for a while? And he and Eddie and Bev could all hang out the way they used to. Or just he and Eddie could hang out. But that would probably be weird. Yeah, it’d be weird.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Walks by</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What a sight for</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sore eyes</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Brighter than a</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Blue sky</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She's got you</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Mesmerized</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>While I die</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why would you ever kiss me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm not even half, as pretty</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You gave her your sweater</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It's just polyester, but you like her better</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I wish I were Heather</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wish I were Heather</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wish I were Heather</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Richie feels something </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt</span>
  </em>
  <span>, deep within his soul, as Conan borderline screams that last note. He sobs loudly into his pillow, his body eventually running out of water as the song finishes with one last chorus. He screams, raw and broken, as the next song starts, “Enchanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turns off the music, wishing he was Summer so badly, worse than anyone else could ever know. He wants to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> her, he wants Eddie to love him, hold him, and braid </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>hair… not some golden girl’s-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie belongs with the golden girl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s the boy scout, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They belong together. They have to-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie screams again as his heart lurches with longing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rich, are you o-” Maggie starts, entering his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you knock?” Richie asks, voice cracking. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asks, walking over to his bed and sitting down next to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The flower disease,” Richie mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m in love.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see why that’s cause for-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re taken,” Richie finishes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Maggie says quietly. “I’m sorry, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie cries weakly into his pillow for a little longer, Maggie rubbing his back and ruffling his hair in an attempt to soothe him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Mom,” he murmurs, eyes swollen and half-open from all the crying he’s done in the past few hours. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too, sweetie. Get some rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods, and she leaves the room, vaguely wondering who ‘they’ are, but also feeling that if she knows anything about her son, she’ll be able to guess next time ‘they,’ or </span>
  <em>
    <span>Eddie </span>
  </em>
  <span>comes over.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Richie enters Biology on Monday morning absolutely exhausted. Bev, Stan, and Mike had been trying to get in contact with him all weekend, but he ignored every single one of their calls, snaps, texts, and DMs. He doesn’t think he can deal with this shit anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubs a hand tired over his eyes, and looks up to see a blurry blonde walking toward him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, hi,” she stammers a bit, her usual perfect speech a little choppy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Richie says tiredly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… Eddie told me that uhm… you two got into a fight, and he’s really, really upset. Was it because of movie night? I didn’t mean to intrude-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> movie night, Summer. Leave me alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want him to be happy. I- I’m sorry,” she says defeatedly, and then walks away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too,” he mumbles under his breath. “Me too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost feels bad for her. He wants to feel bad for her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span> girl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He calls Beverly that night, cries to her over the phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want him to be happy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me too,” Beverly admits. “But I want you to be happy just as much. And where the hell were you at lunch today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I skipped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie, you can’t just</span>
  <em>
    <span> do</span>
  </em>
  <span> that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s fine, Beverly. I’m fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you’re not. You and Eddie should make up. We miss you guys. And this isn’t just about him being with Summer. He’s not sitting with us anymore because you two are fighting. Please. Fix this. If not for yourself, for us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“First of all, I’m fucking fine. And I’m sorry I called,” he says shortly, hanging up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opens SnapChat and watches Eddie’s story over and over again, a snap of he and Summer holding hands over their Biology project. Richie wants to vomit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Richie,” Maggie says, walking into her son’s messy bedroom. “How are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he replies, coughing a little. She knows he’s lying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I, uhm, I made cookies, if you want to come downstairs and have a few before dinner…” she trails off, hoping this will reach her son in the way she intended.</span>
  <em>
    <span> I’m here for you.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds amazing, Mom, thank you,” he says kindly, giving her a big hug. She hasn’t received a hug from him a little bit now, and she holds him tightly for a minute before he walks down the stairs, taking them one at a time. She remembers when she baked cookies when he was young, he would take those things three at a time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Throughout these past few months, he just seems to </span>
  <em>
    <span>drag </span>
  </em>
  <span>everywhere he goes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants it to stop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wants her baby to be happy again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the week drags by. It comes time for their weekly movie night, and neither Richie or Eddie know what they’re going to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All they know is they miss each other like hell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie’s lying on his bed, listening to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kid Krow</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and staring at Eddie’s SnapChat story, which contains another picture of he and Summer holding hands, when Beverly calls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Richie. You guys </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beverly, I don’t want to fucking hear it-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t really care, because you’re hearing it. They didn’t fucking invite me to movie night either, so that’s really good and great and fun, but am I moping around? Fuck no. I am accepting that Summer is a part of his life now and that she won’t always be. Are you kidding me, Richie? Who marries their high school sweetheart? Eddie’s smart. He knows this shit ends in divorce. He’ll break up with her before college because he knows better. Girlfriends come and go but Losers are for life, Richie. I need you to understand that. If you two continue to fight over a stupid girl-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>over</span>
  </em>
  <span> her, Beverly, and… and I’d marry my high school sweetheart! If he was my high school sweetheart… and Summer’s not stupid! Stupid beautiful maybe, Beverly… she’s so nice. She’s so nice and I hate her. I fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hate</span>
  </em>
  <span> her. Do you see the way she looks at him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you see the way he looks at her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie is quiet for a minute. “She’s a golden girl, Beverly. And I’m… I’m a dirty boy. Fuck me, Bev. Fuck. Me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Call him. You’ll be surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie sighs and hangs up, alternating between staring at the phone and watching YouTube for the next three hours before dialing Eddie’s number. He closes his eyes and hits call, desperately hoping he doesn’t regret his decision. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look I- IbrokeupwithSummer,” Eddie states, all in one breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slow down, Eddie, you-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I broke up. With. Summer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie is quiet. “Wait… why? You- you loved her, right? She- you said she was ethereal and… shit, Eddie, are you okay? I’m so sorry. I know we’re fighting and all but I’m here if you want to talk,” Richie says, genuinely feeling sad for Eddie. Even though Bev was right. Summer was temporary, and… Richie’s still here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We never said love,” Eddie states. “She’s pretty, yeah. She’s… really pretty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie grimaces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s pretty but she’s human. She’s still human. She’s flawed, just like anybody else, like…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what? I can’t believe you. This-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She was too perfect, I think. I think she doesn’t… feel things, intensely enough. Or, I didn’t feel anything intense at all while I was with her. And I was just waiting for something, anything to happen. I was waiting for the sparks to fly, but I just kept staring at her and putting her on this pedestal, and I never felt anything other than ‘Wow, what a pretty girl.’ And I think that’s what everyone thought when they looked at us. We were a pretty couple. I don’t want to be just that. I want to</span>
  <em>
    <span> feel</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie is stunned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know I sound crazy, but I’ve fucking missed you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I’ve missed you, too, Eds,” Richie says, the nickname spilling from his lips before he can stop it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t call me that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie grins. “Uhm. Can I come over?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No. Yes. I- my mom… just be quiet, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know I can’t be quiet when your mom is in the picture-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie hangs up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie grabs his keys and leaves immediately, stopping right before he knocks on Eddie’s door to shoot a quick text to his mom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pauses her Netflix show, taking a minute to smile, and knowing that Richie will be back to his obnoxious self soon enough. And it’s not like he needs Eddie to be happy or anything, no. He could’ve gotten over it. But Eddie came to his senses sooner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie taps on the door as quietly as he can while still letting Eddie know he’s there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi,” Eddie whispers, opening the door quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Richie says back, unable to hide the smile on his face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want to watch a movie?” That’s Eddie’s way of saying, ‘Sorry I didn’t invite you and Bev last night. I was being a total selfish dick.’</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie nods, and they pop popcorn, knowing Sonia can’t hear it from her room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie sits back on the couch, and Eddie fits himself between Richie and the arm of the couch, Richie’s arm slung over his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for being bitchy,” Richie says. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for only thinking about Summer for three months straight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I do that too, dude. The best season in the world-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie snorts. “Only you would make a joke about my breakup that was caused by… well… only you…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm? Yeah, you never did tell me why…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie shifts, turning so he’s facing Richie. Richie stops breathing for a minute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only you…” Eddie trails off again, gaze flicking down to Richie’s lips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, Eddie, did-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Richie doesn’t finish that sentence, as Eddie’s lips are on his. As in, Eddie Kaspbrak is kissing him. As in-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm,” Richie murmurs, tilting his head forward and cupping the back of Eddie’s neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie pulls back, and doesn’t look at Richie with indecision. He looks at him with pure, unadulterated, love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he mumbles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s do it again,” Richie says, low and in his ear. Eddie shivers as Richie captures his lips once more, this time dragging his fingers down Eddie’s back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh…” That’s what he’s been looking for. That’s feeling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eds,” Richie starts, pulling back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m cold.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you.” Eddie pulls him off the couch, to go up to his room so Richie can wear his sweater. The sweater Summer took off when she left, which… how long ago was that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels like forever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You love me,” Richie says back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do,” Eddie says before he can stop himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you’re in luck, because I happen to love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since we were 13.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve loved you since we were twelve, beat that!” Eddie exclaims, quickly quieting down after he remembers his mom’s room is right next to his. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit, wait ‘til Bev hears this! Can I text her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but… wait to post anything or tell anyone else, okay? I know… Summer’s hurting a lot right now, and she’s still my friend and I still love her… I’m just not</span>
  <em>
    <span> in</span>
  </em>
  <span> love with her, y’know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Richie kisses Eddie’s cheek. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Richie doesn’t have to wish anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t have to wish he’s Summer or Heather, the golden girl with the pretty blue eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s a brown-eyed boy, a bit of a trashmouth, and maybe he hogs the covers and his clothes don’t fit right, and his teeth are a little crooked, but…  Eddie is in love with him and he’s happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows what he wants after high school. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he knows who he wants in it. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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